Chapter 14 Aurora #2
Flames burst from her palms, casting us in golden light. Her bottle-green eyes took on a metallic sheen I’d never noticed before—almost reptilian. She extinguished the flames but kept the magic burning beneath her skin, maintaining the precise temperature needed for cauterization.
Hands clasped in prayer, I watched them work.
Gale remained statue-still while Pearl and Ember followed Selena’s instructions with laser-like concentration.
Hummingbird’s complexion hadn’t improved—his skin stayed pale as parchment—but at least his heart maintained its slow, steady rhythm.
Still pumping blood to his brain. Still keeping him alive.
“What about me?” I asked, moving closer to Selena. “How can I help?”
She stayed silent, eyes twitching as her mind raced. Pearl had moved to examine Hummingbird’s broken wing, where bone had pierced skin.
“Remember what I told you about Blood Transcendence?” Selena asked, never taking her gaze from where Ember was sealing a cut on the iele’s bicep with her glowing finger.
“I do.” What I didn’t say was that I remembered her admitting she’d never successfully performed Derzelas’ most complex, arcane magic. “Wasn’t it supposed to be nearly impossible? Something about controlling immortal blood?”
“It is, when the subject is dead,” she confirmed, finally meeting my eyes.
The bitter twist of her lips told me she was disappointed I hadn’t figured out her plan already.
“But Hummingbird isn’t dead yet. His immortal blood is still flowing.
It’s his mortal genes that have gone into survival mode due to his injuries—”
“They’re shutting down to preserve what’s left,” I finished. Then the full horror hit me, and my legs nearly gave out. “Sel, you want to force his body into a pureblood state while he’s still alive?”
That’s exactly what I’d tried earlier.
What she’d stopped me from doing.
For good reason.
“You know what happens if this goes wrong,” I hissed.
Her jaw clenched. “I won’t let it go wrong.”
“That’s not how this works!” Fear hitched up my voice. “What I almost did to him before—”
I couldn’t say the word. Not with Gale and the others listening. Ghoul. The abomination that waited when blood magic failed.
“There’s a difference between what you tried and what I’m proposing.” Her obsidian eyes bored into mine. “You were trying to trap his soul in dying flesh with brute force. I’m going to temporarily override his mortality so his immortal side can heal him properly.”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I wouldn’t attempt this if I hadn’t witnessed your blood control. What you did to Harbinger in the war room—I felt you weave his molecules into threads even with a blade at my throat.”
My stomach dropped. How had she managed to monitor my magic while staring down that portal-born yatagan?
“You’ll separate his mortal blood and extract it while I work,” she continued as if the task wasn’t impossible. “Temporarily. Just long enough for his pureblood physiology to heal the damage.”
“You’re insane.” When her expression didn’t change, panic flooded through me. “This isn’t some research experiment, Sel—this is Hummingbird’s life!”
“I could extract the blood myself, but the healing requires molecular control that takes decades to master.” Her voice hardened. “You don’t have decades, he doesn’t have minutes. So what’s it going to be—help me save him, or stand there wringing your hands while he dies?”
Pearl and Ember had both finished their tasks and were staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. But it was Terraknight’s anxious pacing and muttered curses that made it difficult to swallow the tightness in my throat.
What Selena asked of me was like demanding a pureblood in bloodlust to show mercy, to step back before draining their prey dry.
The only reason I’d survived my own bloodlust after Brasov was drinking Radu’s original blood.
It had been the single thread that pulled me back from the edge.
Without it, I would have kept hunting until there was nothing left to kill.
“Let me get this straight,” Terraknight stopped mid-stride and dragged both hands over his short-cropped hair, “you want to drain Hummingbird’s mortal blood, possibly killing him or turning him into some abomination, so you can make him immortal?”
“Only temporarily,” Selena corrected, but didn’t deny the other possibility.
Anguish carved deep lines across the vice-captain’s face.
“Even if we avoid creating a monster, his body could still reject forced immortality,” I said. “Sabazios’ blood runs strong—it might fight back.”
“Then we move fast.” Her sigh carried defeat and determination in equal measure. “Look, I don’t have any other ideas, he’s running out of time. I can’t promise this will work, but I’m confident I can heal him once every trace of mortality is removed. That much, I guarantee.”
“Do it,” Gale said, never breaking concentration. The silver-blue glow in her eyes remained steady as she applied pressure to his wounds. “I’ve known Hummingbird the longest. He’d want this chance. For all his jokes about death… he doesn’t want to die.”
“Agreed,” Pearl said, shooting a pointed look at Ember when silence stretched between us.
The balaur stared at Hummingbird’s blanched face, her throat working. When she finally spoke, her voice carried surprising strength. “Bring him back to us.”
All eyes turned to Terraknight. He stood frozen, head tilted toward the star-strewn sky, the pulse in his neck throbbing visibly.
The weight of deciding a friend’s fate pressed down on those broad shoulders.
He rocked on the balls of his feet, hands buried in his pockets, then dropped his gaze to Hummingbird. Color drained from his dark skin.
A sharp crack split the night.
We all flinched. No one spoke, but we knew.
Radu had given Quakelord peace.
The finality hit like an arrow to the heart. Until that moment, some desperate part of me had clung to hope. Maybe Selena could have saved them both. Maybe Quakelord was just unconscious. Maybe we’d misread his injuries. That single gunshot severed every thread of denial.
Quakelord was gone.
Ember’s shoulders shook as she pressed glowing hands against a cut on Hummingbird’s cheek. Tears hissed against her heated touch. “He was supposed to outlive us all. Always said he was too stubborn to die.”
Pearl leaned back on her heels, her eyes the startling shade of robin’s eggs, glistening. “He promised to teach me his favorite card trick. The one where he always cheated.” Her voice broke, but she smiled at what was clearly a fond memory.
“He made me laugh during my worst battles,” Gale said between sobs. “Said fear couldn’t kill you unless you let it move in and pay rent.” She whimpered. “I never got to thank him for that.”
Terraknight’s shoulders sagged as if the sound had stolen his strength. He stared at his hands—the same hands that had clasped Quakelord’s nape in friendship just hours ago during their race.
“Fifty-nine years old,” he said, voice hollow. “We never even celebrated his last birthday. Too busy fighting to live long enough for the next one.”
The silence felt heavier than the ash still falling around us. We all understood what that gunshot meant beyond Quakelord’s death. Some battles couldn’t be won, some friends couldn’t be saved, and some losses would hollow you from the inside.
We were running out of time to save the ones still breathing.
“Do it,” Terraknight spoke again. “Save him.”
My hand trembled as I pressed it to my mouth, worrying my lower lip. Could I really separate every molecule that made Hummingbird a son of Sabazios? And if I managed it, how would I contain it?
“Aurora?” Selena’s sharp voice pulled me back to her. The deep frown lines between her eyes told me this wasn’t the first time she’d called my name. “Terraknight said yes. What about you?”
Five sets of eyes focused on me. My heart thumped against my ribs, an unbearable weight crushing my lungs. What if I make a mistake and kill him before Selena gets her chance? Should I extract his blood in stages or all at once? I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.
“We can’t do this without you,” she said impatiently.
I forced myself to nod despite my shaking hands. I’d controlled Radu’s blood molecules before. I could do this. “Give me ten minutes.”
“You have five. He won’t last longer.”
I took one last look at Hummingbird’s sleeping face and closed my eyes. The world fell away as I slipped past his non-existent mental barriers.
His blood felt different from Radu’s, though both carried dual essences, Hummingbird’s were fundamentally at odds.
Where Radu’s pureblood and varcolac natures had found balance through true immortality, Hummingbird’s immortal heritage clashed with his mortality.
The immortal blood flowed thick through major arteries, while his mortal essence ran thinner, faster, through smaller vessels.
Like oil and water forced together but never truly mixing.
I began the delicate work of separation, but this was far more complex than what I’d done to Radu in the war room. Then, I’d simply woven his blood molecules into microscopic threads—a blood mesh to control his motor functions.
Separation required something entirely different. Something new.
Instead of threading, I had to stack the mortal molecules carefully, forming dense knots that wouldn’t rupture under pressure. Each cluster required precise control—too loose and they’d dissolve back into his system, too tight and they’d crystallize and tear through his veins like razorblades.
One hundred knots formed along his circulatory pathways.
Nowhere near enough for a healthy person, but all his weakened system had left after the massive blood loss.
I guided them through the maze of his body toward the open wound in his abdomen, where extraction would be safest. The mortal blood resisted, clinging to vessel walls as if sensing its impending exile.